Inward Twist
by fakeasain56
Summary: When the cold sets in, Lestrade's inward twist gets just a little worse. This sets Doctor Watson wondering how the Inspector received such a wound, but neither he nor Gregson are talking...
1. Chapter 1

It was a miserably cold day. Detective Inspector Lestrade stomped his feet on the steps of the small flat, waiting patiently as the quick steps of Mrs. Hudson approached. On the other hand, his companion, a fellow Inspector, looked slightly impatient.

I smiled as my esteemed former landlady appeared in the doorway, a shawl thrown about her shoulders. "Oh, Doctor Watson! You're back! Thank goodness!"

"Mrs. Hudson- sorry to bother you, but Mister Holmes did mention he wanted to see Lestrade and Gregson for an upcoming case."

"Yes, yes, do come in, all of you! I hope your wife is well Doctor?"

"Quite well." I smiled at the reminder of my beautiful wife, seemingly at last recovering from an illness that held her bound for the past few weeks. "I trust Holmes hasn't set fire to the sitting room?"

"Twice this week. I do hope you'll be able to bring Mister Holmes out of his foul mood."

Sympathy for the poor woman swelled in my chest; "I'll do my best Mrs. Hudson."

I turned to the two Inspectors, noting with some concern that Lestrade was moving slightly slower then normal, his inward twist to his foot a slight more pronounced. Gregson, a step behind, snapped, "Come on Lestrade, you're not growing slower from old age are you?"

Lestrade fired back just as quickly, "You're the one older then me Gregson, so if anyone should be getting slow it should be you!"

"Ah yes, but I take _proper_ care of myself, unlike you." Gregson sniped back, "I think the Doctor would agree with me if I say that out of the two of us I'm much more fit."

"Ha! Says the man who was laid up by a common cold just a fortnight ago!" Lestrade crossed the threshold, as I moved ahead of the two Inspectors, my uneasiness about Lestrade's foot fading to the back of my mind in preparation of seeing Holmes again.

"I am not talking about **that** Lestrade, I'm talking about Holme's visiting. A dosage of Holmes should always be carefully controlled with a helping of Watson, and taken only when necessary."

I admit to being a bit surprised by this particular line of jesting, as I reached the top of the steps. As I reached the top of the stairs, a dark scowl from Holmes indicated that he had heard the jesting; but I had the rare privilege to see the scowl fade as Lestrade rejoined, "Nonsense. A Holmes should be sprinkled on top the more unusual foods to make them palatable. Uncommon ingredient but useful."

'Useful' has always been Lestrade's biggest words off praise, and one not often joined with Holmes name.

They reached the top of the stairs as Holmes vanished into the sitting room- no doubt to pretend he had not heard such a statement. By the time we reached the cozy room, the heat of the fire warming us up, Holmes was completely in control of his face.

Steely gray eyes flickered up to the two detectives. "I see you have been out by the river! It wouldn't have anything to do with the Merington case now would it?"

Lestrade nodded as he began to unwind his scarf. Beside him, Gregson mirrored his movement, handing the heavy coats to Mrs. Hudson. The woman vanished out the door, and Gregson moved for one of the couches. Lestrade moved for the fire instead, and once again my eyes were drawn to the inward twist of his foot.

Holmes followed my line of sight, before speaking, "I see your foot is giving more trouble then it generally does."

The most astonishing thing happened then- I fully expected for Gregson to smugly make a remark about it as Lestrade fumed to one side. Instead, Gregson grew quiet, gaze growing fixated on the book case across from him, as Lestrade took a great deal of interest in the fire.

Silence stretched for a few moments longer, before Lestrade cleared his throat. His voice was slightly low as he answered Holmes, "Not by much. I twisted it slightly while walking down the Thames earlier."

Even I was taken back by this rather blatant attempt at a lie, but Lestrade refused to meet my eye, choosing to stare into the fire instead. I looked to my companion, and my heart sank at the sight. Holmes gray eyes were alight in curiosity, and an ever slight smile was curving his mouth. He looked very much like a hound picking up on a trace scent.

Lestrade apparently noticed this, for he hastily interjected, "Mister Holmes, we came about the Merington Case. You would not of happened to of read today's paper would you?"

Holmes gestured expansively to the table, where several papers lay, folded up. "I gleaned what I could from the press, and now I ask of you two what other details have escaped them."

Gregson shook his head in disgust. "That's all we have unfortunately. Some fool managed to leak all of the details to the press, and they have proceeded to build upon it instead. The iron poker was not actually missing from the fireplace, despite what the paper may claim."

Lestrade nodded from the fire, hands groping for his notebook. Carefully he flipped it open, and riffled through it. "The body was found at five o'clock of the morning- the maid confirmed it by looking at the timepiece on the mantle, before running for the Constable."

"The maid is married to a police-man correct?"

"Yes, to Constable Tennet I believe. He's a good lad; a bit prone to flights of fancy though. I think he should've been an actor rather than a police-man but he is here so..."

Gregson snorted from his comfortable seat. "Tennet is in the force because he knows he will never make it as an actor. He doesn't have the face for it." He laughed quietly, at his own private joke. "It may court a few of the ladies, but it also drew other attention that made the guild masters quite uncomfortable if you know what I mean."

Lestrade nodded sharply once, before returning to his notes. "Tennet alerted Inspector Bradstreet-"

"No, he did not ratty." Gregson immediately proclaimed. In a second, the two were at each others throats, despite the fact that Gregson was a good head taller then Lestrade, the ferret-like man refused to back down.

I cleared my throat, interrupting them; "I believe I must get back to my wife soon, but I would like to hear what there is to be said."

Then began perhaps one of the most round-about tellings of a story I have perhaps ever had the pleasure of hearing- they would stop at just about any detail they possibly could to quibble over it, and did so.

Even Holmes eventually grew weary of their squabbling, and held up a hand. Neither noticed, choosing to carry on with their quarrel, which had long since degraded from the case into a little more personal territory, spanning across several years, as I could hear references to other cases. "I do not see what your problem was with that dratted Hound business!"

"My problem with it is that for all cases involving dogs from thereafter you have proceeded to dump all cases involving dogs upon me!"

"And you dump all cases that may have to do with cats upon me! And you weren't the one who watched that giant dog bound across the moor glowing green! Your problem with cats lies with the Lady Riverton case where her cat attempted to claw your eyes out."

"Did you not see the size of that cat man? I-"

"GENTLEMEN PLEASE!" Holmes roar brought all attention to him. Both Lestrade and Gregson glowered at this interruption of their argument. I stifled my own smile, for despite my own irritation at the many interruptions, it was also quite refreshing to hear the two bicker.

"The case?"

Both continued to stare at him. Lestrade at last was the one to huff, "We just told you all the particulars of the case. Were you not listening? Everything up to the point where we bean discussing animals was what wasn't covered in the Paper already."

Gregson snorted, "There is still the matter of who leaked the information."

"Tennets wife no doubt." Lestrade murmured back, looking thoughtful, head cocking to the side just a bit. His dark eyes were distant, and Gregson seemed also just as thoughtful, thick hands propping up his head, blue eyes staring contemplatively at the bookcase. "We won't be able to confirm it."

"Mmm, oh, I think _I_ shall."

Lestrade's head whipped towards him, "And just how do you propose that?"

"Now, now Ratty, I'll show you later. Until then-" Gregson turned for the door, every step measured and stately. "I will be at the Yard if you have need of any more information."

Lestrade was after him in a moment, twisted foot apparently soothed by the fire, as he harried the man with questions. "You plan on doing what Gregson?"

"Later Ratty."

"Stop with the theatrics fat-head-" What Lestrade was about to say was abruptly cut off as Mrs. Hudson appeared with the men's hats and coats. Quickly they dressed and stepped out into the cold, their voices rising in argument once more as they took off down the street.

Holmes slipped from his seat, leaning against the window to watch the two make their way down the street, while I waited for my companions words. "Aha! He is no longer limping quite as much. How very amusing Watson, very amusing indeed."

"The cold would aggravate the muscles, cause them to freeze up, and he already has trouble with his back from the unbalance caused by the twist. What I find most curious is Gregson's reaction."

"They may fight like cats and dogs, but they can work together well enough when and if needed. They purposely set each other up to leave at the same time, so that way I could not snatch one of them alone to ask about the matter. No doubt they plan on avoiding Baker Street for the next good while until they think I have dropped the subject."


	2. Chapter 2

Holmes turned away, a fiery light in his eyes. "How very amusing Watson- I never before looked into this matter because there was no reason, but now I admit my curiosity is piqued!"

"As is mine I freely confess." The two of us shared a brief smile at the thought, "But I'm afraid that I too must leave. I do not want to leave my wife alone for too much longer. If you do pry any more out of the Inspector, do tell Holmes."

Holmes waved a hand in my general direction as he contemplated the fire, a spark to his gray eyes that was not here before. I left the flat with a bit lighter step, glad that something seemed to of broken the man out of his dark mood.

Several weeks passed without any news as Holmes worked together with Lestrade and Gregson to bring the Merington case to a close. I kept an avid following through bits and pieces I saw through the newspaper, unwilling to pull myself away from my wife who seemed to be falling under ailment once again.

My dear wife however, sensing I was chafing at being housebound, subsequently sent me out to at the very least watch the case come to the conclusion. I had a suspicion that Holmes might have a hand in it, but I chose not to say a word, grateful for the chance to get out into London.

The sooty air filled my lungs, as my breath plummeted into the air. Waiting on the street was a carriage, and Lestrade was standing next to it, dark eyes scanning the crowds. A pleased look crossed his face as he spotted me. "Doctor Watson! Over here! I hired a cab. I believe you shall be able to witness the ending of this case. I hope you have brought along your doctors bag, for we may need it."

"I do Lestrade." I have long since given up on convincing the man to call me by anything other then my title or last name. "I see you came alone this time."

He nodded sharply; I hid my own smile. Holmes had mentioned that Lestrade had not appeared alone at Baker Street since that fateful night, pulling some new Constable to introduce them to Holmes. At least that was his reason he gave when Holmes asked.

I climbed onto the cab, and the horse snorted softly, hoof striking the cobblestone street. Lestrade swung up beside me, grimacing slightly. I leaned forward slightly as Lestrade thumped on the roof of the cabbie. "So then Lestrade; tell me something- what is the story behind your foot."

Lestrade attempted to look innocent; something quite impossible on his thin face. "I have no idea what you are talking about Doctor Watson."

"Come my man! Surely there must be a story behind this foot! I admit I'm a bit surprised that Holmes did not already know the story behind it."

"I would not tell Holmes even if he did ask me." Lestrade snapped back. "Some things are not meant to be shared."

I leaned back, surprised on having touched such a sore point. Lestrade sighed miserably, one hand raking back slightly disheveled hair. That caused me to sit up and pay attention; normally Lestrade dressed to the point of nattiness, but today he did not look so neat. His collar wasn't quite as stiff as it should be, the overcoat was slightly rumbled, and dark shadows were beneath Lestrade's dark eyes, almost unnoticed.

I apologized, and Lestrade's eyes closed for a moment. "I apologize as well Doctor Watson. This case has been particularly trying."

I nodded in response, as Lestrade settled further into the seat. His dark, rat-like eyes watched the passing streets. I am uncertain if he even remembered I was there when he mused aloud, "Fate has a strange way of working. A similar case brought me to this same road, where I-"

He fell silent then as the cab came to a halt in front of the building, and together we disembarked. Gregson was waiting at the doorway, looking as calm as if he were on the front steps of the Yard. "Ready?"

I nodded, patting my trusty service revolver. Beside me, Lestrade pulled out a gun of his own, which Gregson calmly nodded at. "I see you swung by the Yard first."

"Last time we came down here the gun was useful. I have a feeling it will be again."

The two brushed shoulders as they entered in first, moving swiftly into the building. I had no chance to muse on the odd words spoken before the first ringing shots could be heard with the shrill whistle of police summoning the Constables hiding in the buildings beyond.

I bounded through the doorway, pistol rising to aim at the men standing above us shooting as a tall figure swept in behind me. "Watson, think you could pick off the man circling around?"

I nodded shortly, swinging my pistol about to shoot carefully. The man dropped, and that seemed to signal to the other men. As one they abandoned their posts, and Lestrade grinned in happiness. "The back door! The others should get them there!"

He moved quickly after the fleeing men, Gregson only a step behind. I hastened after them, my own enjoyment soaring in the face of such a trap being so masterfully executed. I slowed down, only for a moment when I saw Holmes standing ahead, "You did it Holmes!"

"Indeed I have." My partner agreed, lapping up satisfaction like a cat. "Now we shall get to see this case come to its conclusion-"

"LESTRADE BEHIND!"

Gregson's desperate shout accompanied by a horses wild scream brought both of our attention forward, and I felt dread seize my heart as Holmes grew grim. Lestrade cried out, and deplorable silence fell in that moment.

Holmes and I picked up our pace, heading desperately for the back door. We heard their voices long before we saw them, a trick of the building making the voices loud despite their distance from us. "You Ratty have the _worst_ streak of luck when it comes to this street."

"I *gasp* know fat-head!"

"In pain are you?" Gregson snapped back, the tiniest hint of concern underlying his scorn.

"I'd be in less pain if you'd get your bloody fat hands off my leg!"

"And have you bleed out onto the cobblestones? I think not. Can you imagine the paperwork that would result? Oh, and then they'd have to give me a new partner. You do realize that Constable Dillon is soon to be promoted."

Lestrade wheezed weakly, his voice fading slightly, "Heavens above forbid you having to teach a new Constable the work of a inspect-_ow_!"

"Sorry." He didn't sound at all contrite.

There was a moment of silence, before, "Ratty, don't fall asleep on me now."

"Why doesn't Doctor Watson insult you? He can't even *wheeze* decide on what I look like."

"He knows that you're short and that's all he needs to know. Besides, we both know that I'm the far more handsome one out of the two of us." There was a sniff as Gregson apparently punctuated the words with a light squeeze for there was another pained gasp from Lestrade.

It was at this point did Holmes and I burst out into the road. My heart immediately sank as I found Gregson kneeling next to the small inspector, both hands soaked in blood, as Lestrade's right leg bled out into the cobblestone road.

Several Constables were holding the suspects. Holmes glanced at the men, before glancing back to Lestrade and Gregson, calmly lying on the edge of the action, Gregson glowering at any who dared come too close.

Lestrade's eyes were closed from the pain, face ashen. Gregson looked up, locking eyes with me. "Oh good, here comes Doctor Watson. You can talk to him about your too accurate descriptions in his book with him yourself. I have several people to actually arrest."

"Doctor Watson? Since when-"

"I came down the stairs just now. I was talking to Holmes earlier and heard the horses scream."

"Oh, right. Horse." There was a thread of relief in his voice, one that I could not quite understand. Judging by the sudden stillness on Gregson's face he however did.

"I'll be seeing you tomorrow at the Yard shorty." Gregson wiped his bloodied hands on a handkerchief and strode away, not looking back as he started barking order to the blue-clad men.

Holmes crouched next to me as I ran gentle fingers along the wound, and I murmured, "Very lucky Inspector that I was here, or you'd have a limp matching the other one."

Lestrade made some noise, but didn't open his eyes, concentrating on not screaming and thrashing. I turned to my medical bag, and pulled out a syringe. "I think before I begin any further examinations I should first take the edge off the pain."

"Thank you Doctor." Lestrade whispered, composure crumbling by the moment. I injected a light mixture of cocaine into him, and the effects quickly took a hold of the man.

Soon I had returned my attention upon the man's leg, hands flexing in preparation for the setting of the bones. "Holmes, could you hold Lestrade down? This is going to hurt."

Holmes placed hands where I gestured, and I ignored the slowly growing enclave of curious constables crowding close together around the wounded man. "In three, two one go." I waited for a second longer, and snapped the leg back into place. The only noise Lestrade made was a soft whimper, almost lost among Gregson's shout for the gawking constables to return to the crime scene.

They did so, throwing glances across their shoulders at the man on the cobblestones as I reached for bandages. Quickly I bound up his leg, murmuring, "It should be fine to walk on in a few months. Until then, I shall talk to your Landlady about not letting you run about too much."

"Work tomorrow." Lestrade murmured back, breath low and pained. "Promised Gregson."

Lestrade hadn't spoken so much as a word to Gregson since I had arrived, but I simply shook my head. "Unless you want a mirroring limp Lestrade, you will not leave your apartment for at least two days. I will inform Gregson that you will not be making it. I will then fetch us a cab. You are to stay still."

"But-"

"No moving. Holmes, watch him."

I took advantage of their surprise to move away, hailing a cab while signaling to Gregson. The inspector nodded shortly, motioning to a constable, before moving towards me.

We spent the next few moments discussing Lestrade; mainly I insisting that Lestrade would not be fit for walking for the next few days, Gregson merely watching, and I at last turning back to where Lestrade was still lying on the ground.

At least, he was supposed to be. He seemed to be making some movements to sit up, with Homes shaking his head at the man. "I would stop Lestrade; before the good doctor decides that you can only recover at his own home."

Lestrade stilled at that, one eye cracking open at Holmes. "He wouldn't…"

One eyebrow cocked above cool eyes. "You doubt my words?"

Lestrade hesitated there, before his head fell back on the cool pavement. Holmes hand twitched, as if considering what might happen if he were to place it beneath Lestrade's head when gray eyes rose to meet mine.

"Hmm, here comes Doctor Watson now."

"Oh good. That means I can get up."

"With me helping you, yes." I replied, reaching down to check bandages. "The cabby should be arriving any moment now."

Lestrade nodded slowly, one hand wrapping around my own tightly as I pulled him to his feet. He swayed unsteadily as the clip-clop of the horse approaching drew nearer. Lestrade hunched miserably, as Gregson's shouts grew more strident, attempting to bring order to the constables.

The cabby drew up, and the dark-haired man eyed its depths uncertainly. Gregson must have been watching for he snorted loudly, "Leave already would you? You're quite simply taking up and wasting space, which is an accomplishment for someone your size."

"Oh go drown in the Thames Gregson." Lestrade snarled back, carefully clambering into the cabby. I pulled myself up behind him, checking to make certain that his leg was not too badly jostled. Holmes clambered up beside me.

The cabbie stood still, and I blinked, realizing that I knew not where Lestrade lived. "Lestrade- where-"

Holmes jumped to my rescue at that moment, rattling out an address I did not quite recognize. I recognized the area soon enough- it was a comfortable place, not too ostentatious, but neither so poor he might find himself among the criminal element.

Lestrade slowly disembarked, clutching at the cabby for support. I whisked myself out not a moment later, leading Lestrade to the stair and letting Holmes pay for the cab. Judging by the stare, Holmes did not much like the idea, so instead he commanded the cabby to wait.

I stifled my own groan, well realizing that the man was going to leave me saddled with the bill either way. "Come Lestrade, we'll get you settled in."

Lestrade leaned against me, and I took note of his light weight with some concern. The Inspector had not been eating right, and I immediately began planning a time to revisit the man to talk to his landlady about making certain he was eating. Lestrade fumbled for a moment as we climbed the stairs, pointing at a door.

"That would be mine." A key was whisked out; door opening shortly after, and I supported him into the room.

"I'll be by on the morrow to bring you a crutch. And to tell your landlady that you are not to be going out. I already informed Gregson."

Lestrade grumbled at that, settling onto the couch with a wince. I glanced around the flat, unsurprised to see that there was not much to it- there were few ornaments, even fewer mementos, and the only thing that convinced me Lestrade spent any amount of time here was the line of books on a small shelf over the fireplace. Each were carefully preserved, but well thumbed through.

I wondered what books Lestrade read, but settled instead for squeezing the man lightly on the shoulder. "I will be back on the morrow. You should try to get to bed soon."

Lestrade's head fell back, dark hair escaping in wisps. "Thank you Doctor Watson."

"No problem at all Lestrade." I patted his shoulder, "Get some sleep."

The man sank down upon the couch, eyes slipping close. He would hurt in the morning, but I hesitated to get him into bed. At last, after hovering for a few moments longer, I pulled a duvet out of a linen cabinet and left the man to his sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

I arrived early the next morning, with a crutch under my arm. Holmes was right behind me, as we both agreed that after visiting Lestrade, we would then visit the Yard to see what Gregson had found out about the case.

Holmes abruptly stopped, lifting his cane to block my way. I paused on the stairwell, sending him a look. He held his finger up to his lips, pointing towards the door.

There, faintly, I could hear voices. Together, we creeped up as quietly as we could to the door.

Lestrade and Gregson were inside, and I reached the doorway in time to hear Lestrade laugh quietly; a sound I heard far too few times. His laughs were not a random act, and it took much to coax out even so much as a smile.

Gregson however didn't seem quite as happy. "You're a fool Lestrade. An idiot. I cannot believe you were attempting to head back to the Yard on a broken leg when I came around last night."

"They sent an urgent telegram!"

"By _Hopkins_. I thought the doctor would have enough good sense not to leave you alone." I blushed slightly, as Gregson continued, "And the good doctor should be around then sometime Lestrade?"

"Yes Gregson. I expect around midday."

"And I should be going to the Yard to conclude the investigation."

"I thought you said you were done."

"Just needed your testimony." There was a slight creak from the room, signaling that Gregson was standing up. I attempted to step back, wondering if we were going to be caught. Holmes grabbed my shoulder, tilting his head further.

Gregson was hesitating.

"If you're going to ask about my leg, then the answer if no, I am not going to get a limp."

Gregson must've made some motion, for I heard Lestrade snort. "I don't see why you're concerned, it wasn't your fault."

"You were quite nearly kicked out of the Yard for that limp Lestrade. You were lucky that you got it saving the Super's children or else you'd be out finding yourself another job." Gregson's voice was soft, his words less biting.

Lestrade apparently sensed a change in the mood for he blustered on, "It wasn't your fault in the first place the first time either-"

"Ha!" The morose tone brought my breath to a halt. Lestrade groaned, and there was a shift from the couch.

"Must we Tobias go over this again? I am in the Yard. Yes, I have a limp and yes I am a few inches shorter then what I could be, but I am still here." Lestrade's voice softened. "Thanks to you."

"If it weren't for me you'd never had that limp in the first place."

"Oh, put a sock in it you over-blown, ignorant ape. I am perfectly fine, and I will not be rehashing this conversation we've had before. Not until I am at least nose deep in a pint. Goodness knows I'll need it to deal with you."

There was a snort from Gregson, and the sound of a coat being put on.

Holmes and I both crept back to the top of the stairs, only just catching the ending shot, "I'll be back later tonight with those pints."

"Heavens save me from Yarders who can't keep their noses out of my business. You're worse then an old housewife Gregson!"

"I told you already that I refuse to be assigned another partner at this point in life. Far too much work to break them in. Besides, what will we do if we don't have our liaison to Holmes in working order?"

"Don't act like I'm some kind of machine Tobias."

"Oh no, you sir are rather _special_." Gregson laughed boisterously. "Not many can ignore their self-preservation for their ego like they can for their bodies."

Gregson smugly swept out with Lestrade spluttering behind him. Holmes and I paused on the first step. He nodded respectively to us, and continued down the stairs, a smug smile on his face.

If there was perhaps even a tinge of happiness in that smile, neither Holmes nor I spoke of it.

The visit was short- Lestrade was half asleep on the couch, the earlier visit from Gregson having worn him out, and so I left the crutch nearby, along with a note that he was to take the pills I had left him.

We exited out onto the road, the sun for once deciding it would cooperate with us by peeking through the clouds.

Holmes on the other hand had a much more dour expression. I kept silent as he chose to walk towards the Yard instead of hailing a Cab. "I believe that I have worked together what has happened; but I would be glad to hear what exactly you have to say about it."

"Gregson mentioned the Super's children- and both last night seemed quiet when I mentioned that he could be having a limp matching the other one. It happened years ago- before they met you, so perhaps while they were still young? Constables perhaps. Obviously one of the children got loose, and Lestrade saved him, but his leg wasn't set correctly."

Holmes nodded as well, face lighting up in delight. "You think much the same as I do. But not when they were Constables; they would've thrown Lestrade out no matter who he saved, only with a more honorable discharge then most. No, they were newly promoted inspectors, when Gregson was assigned to watch the Super's children and proceeded to hand them over to Lestrade, or perhaps was meeting Lestrade when one darted out into the road. Lestrade snatched up the child, and was run over. In the resulting confusion nobody called for a doctor for Lestrade until his leg healed wrong."

Holme's voice, starting out triumphant, dwindled to something a lot more like horror. I myself wondered at the man that he would not alert the doctors to his leg. It could have hardly been noticeable.

"Do you think perhaps the child died?"

"No, for neither would be in the Yard then." Holmes frowned. "Still, the story is missing key points. Why would the Super-" He stopped mid sentence as the Yard came into view. "Never mind. I will look into it later. For now, let us see what Gregson has for us!"

We entered the room, and soon were immersed in the great hubbub that consisted of the Yard.

It was not until later that evening, as I returned from my rounds and dropped into a nearby bar to grab a pint before returning to my wife, did I learn the full story. Across the bar I could see a tall, thin man snoring away, and two people huddled up in a booth.

I paid for my drink and nursed it, eyes falling upon the thinner man once again. One gray eye opened at me, and winked. I smiled as I shifted closer, finally recognizing the two figures in the booth- Lestrade and Gregson.

They had come a far way to avoid Holmes, but had not succeeded at all. I moved slightly closer, keeping careful to remain out of eyeshot while remaining within earshot. It was amazing the things you learned when dealing with Holmes.

"It was our first case Gregson! Our first! And we hadn't even run into Holmes yet!" Lestrade waved the pint at his companion, who watched with a slightly amused look on his face.

"Yes, the case of the missing Super's children." Aha! Now they were getting somewhere. "I really hated you then. Not that I don't now, but I was quite certain you were going to be the death of me."

"You were more the death of me. We found the children, and I told you to watch them."

"I was watching the slippery little buggers."

"One got loose."

"Aye." Gregson took a deep swallow of his own pint. "And then a rabid horse got loose."

I felt my face drain in horror. A horse and a child? A rabid horse nonetheless? If the child had been bitten, it would not of survived. That the child was still alive could mean only one thing- "You spent nearly a month recovering from that bite Lestrade."

"We met Holmes on our second official case together." Lestrade murmured helpfully into his cup, avoiding his partners eyes.

"Don't change the subject now."

"I've not had enough pints to deal with this yet Tobias. If you're going to drag up old memories, then at least let me be properly drunk."

Gregson's fair eyes were dark now as he leaned forward. "No. We're going to talk about this now."

"Now? When Holmes or one of his cronies could be listening in?" Lestrade laughed bitterly, slouching further down in his seat to cradle his pint. "I think not. It was not your fault-"

"Nor was it yours." Gregson interrupted, which Lestrade ignored.

"-and everything turned out for the best." Lestrade finished, poking one long finger at Gregson's broad chest. "Now drink your pint and stop worrying you old nanny. I do not wish to dwell on those times."

Gregson shook his head in response to that, downing his pint. "I didn't know how to treat you when you first came into work that day."

"I didn't want you to treat me like anything, other then to insult me and goad me into feeling better like you did when I was sick."

Lestrade finished the pint and gestured for another. I started slightly when a hand touched my elbow and I glanced up at Holmes face.

Together, arm in arm, we walked out of the pub. "I think we have learned enough my dear Watson."

There were many questions left- what had happened during that month Lestrade had been sick, the true details of what had happened with the horse, the children-

But I glanced back in time to see Lestrade and Gregson cheerily drinking their pints in the frosted window and smiled. It didn't really matter, now did it? My curiosity may be my undoing one day, but there were some things meant only to be shared between those who experienced them.

Holmes seemed in agreement as he swung his cane in one hand, coat flapping behind him. "So then my dear Watson- you would not happen to be free this Saturday evening? There is a play in town that I think you will enjoy."

"Certainly my dear Holmes. Certainly."

~Fini~


End file.
